


How to Propose to a Detective Inspector (and get him to say yes!)

by acervate



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Winter Mystrade Exchange, mycroft and greg are dummies who are in love and mycroft makes a rocking dad, mycroft is a workaholic and needs to learn to spend time with his family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 22:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acervate/pseuds/acervate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Christmas Eve, Mycroft decided to pop into the office and finish some last minute work, then get back home. The weather however, had other plans for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Propose to a Detective Inspector (and get him to say yes!)

**Author's Note:**

> winter mystrade exchange for gocosmicsoup221b!!

The room was dark, pardoning the small rays of early winter light that peeked over the curtains. They lay beneath thick blankets, piled high and soft. Mycroft blinked slowly, his eyes narrowed, then adjusting to the dim room. He yawned quietly, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away and  smiled slightly at his boyfriend's sleeping face. Lestrade awoke when he felt a warm body press up close to him, a head of auburn hair tickling his chin and a strong arm winding over his waist.  
  
"G'morning..." he mumbled, blinking slowly. He could feel Mycroft smile against his skin, and grinned slightly.  
  
"Good morning. Sleep well?"  
  
"Yeah, pretty good." he replied, covering his mouth as he yawned. Mycroft pulled him a bit closer, tucking his head down into the curve of Lestrade's neck.  
  
The DI grinned slightly. "You want to know why I love waking up with you?" Mycroft raised a brow and pulled back slightly to look at Lestrade.  
  
"Why?" he asked, brow still raised and lips curling into a smile.  
  
"So I can show you how nice of a dream I had." Lestrade shifted his body, and Mycroft could feel his semi hard cock press up against his thigh.  
  
"Naughty, Gregory!" Mycroft retorted, his smile transforming into a smirk. The politician's hand moved from Lestrade's back and snaked down his side, moving achingly slowly and just finally passing the waistband of Greg's pajama pants when the door swung open.  
  
Mycroft jerked away as Lestrade's children ran into the room, faces wide with smiles. Greg suppressed a sigh as they climbed onto the bed and Mycroft couldn't help but smile.  
  
Elise, Greg's 4 year old daughter laid herself out on Mycroft's legs, hugging her small body around him. His 5 year old son Nicholas snugged into the small space that Mycroft and Greg had made when they separated.  
  
"Isn't it too early for you guys to be awake?" Greg groaned, covering his face. Both children shook their heads and Mycroft stifled a laugh at the man's expense.  
  
"Come along, why don't we let your father sleep some more? We can't decorate the tree if he's tired." Elise and Nicholas cried out in glee and did as Mycroft said, following him. The politician scooped Elise up in his arms and shot a pitying look at his boyfriend, then led the children downstairs. Still in bed, Greg sighed and laid his head back against the pillow.  
  
Oh, he would absolutely kill to have Mycroft's hands on him right now.

* * *

"And then, he uh, he did this thing where he went like whooosh!" Nicholas made a wide gesture with his hands as he told Mycroft a story, his small face alight with amazement. "And then he jumped and he caught the bad guy!"  
  
"He caught the bad guy?" Mycroft repeated, a smile over taking his face as the small boy nodded quickly and confirmed.  
  
"Yeah! And it was really really cool." the young boy seemed to conclude his story and he turned his attention to his breakfast, spooning cereal into his mouth. Mycroft looked up as Greg walked into the kitchen, yawning loudly. He stretched and groaned, then went over to his son and ruffled the boy's hair.  
  
"Telling stories about Sherlock again?" Nicholas nodded and chewed a spoonful of cereal.  
  
"Yep! John told me and Elise a story about the bad man they got. You put him in jail, right Daddy?" Lestrade nodded slowly. Jail could be a synonym for high security prison, right?  
  
"Done!" Elise suddenly chipped in, and Greg turned to look at his daughter. She pushed her empty plate forward and climbed down from the chair, then ran over to Mycroft and Lestrade. She grabbed both of their hands and pulled on them, rocking back and forth in obvious excitement.  
  
"Tree! Can we make the tree pretty?" she exclaimed, capturing her brother's attention easily. Nicholas let out a happy noise and nodded, getting down from his seat as well.  
  
"Can we set it up now? Please, please, please!" he asked, hardly able to stand still. Lestrade laughed and looked at Mycroft, who inclined his head in reply.  
  
"Alright, we can set it up now." They squealed in delight and ran off into the living room. Mycroft chuckled as Greg slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him in close. Mycroft turned in his arms and kissed him lightly, smiling as he did.  
  
"I have to go to work and finish a few matters."  
  
"Aw, you can't! It's Christmas Eve." Lestrade complained, huffing out in indignation. Mycroft sighed and nodded.  
  
"I know, I know. It's only small things though, I'll be done by 2."  
  
"We're going to your mum's at 3." he pointed out, pulling Mycroft forward as they walked towards the living room. The politician nodded.  
  
"I'm aware. Trust me Gregory, I'll get back in time." That answer seemed to finally satisfy Lestrade, for he nodded then broke away from Mycroft to help his kids with the box of ornaments. Mycroft followed, grabbing a red one and helping Elise hang one of her's up. The tree quickly became filled with the multicoloured decorations, and the children gasped in delight when Lestrade plugged it in, and the lights flickered to life and twinkled merrily.  
  
"Alright, who's putting the star on the top?" Lestrade asked, clapping and rubbing his hands together. Elise raised her hands, smiling sweetly.  
  
"I'm letting Elise do it since I got to do the one at home." Nicholas declared, crossing his arms and making his stance wide as if to say that his words were set. Mycroft smiled and Greg laughed, ruffling his son's hair. Mycroft picked up the star from its protective wrappings and held it out to Elise, thinking she would take it and go over to Lestrade.  
  
Instead, she held out her arms to Mycroft, looking at him expectantly. He glanced over at Greg in uncertainty, enquiring if this was okay. The DI grinned and nodded at him, gesturing slightly.  Mycroft couldn't help the smile that passed over his face as he picked up the small girl and watched the lights reflect off her eyes as she carefully placed the star on the top main branch. Elise's smile and wonderment was more than enough to melt Mycroft's heart twice over, and his eyes flickered to Greg with a grand smile.  
  
"How long til Santa comes?" Nicholas asked, eyes moving over to the large hearth where their stocking hung. Elise gasped as she remembered the Christmas symbol and waved at her brother.  
  
"Santa only comes if you're asleep!" she exclaimed. Nicholas shook his head.  
  
"Wrong!" his tone matched a certain detective's almost perfectly and Greg watched a stricken look pass over Mycroft's face in recognition. Nicholas looked up at his father and crossed his arms. "Derek said that he saw Santa once, and he wasn't asleep! So I'm right."  
  
"Wrong!" Elise shot back, looking at her father in the expectation that he would take her side. Greg laughed helplessly and shrugged.  
  
"Maybe you're both right. I guess we'll have to see tonight, hm?" Mycroft chuckled quietly then took the time to glance up at the clock. He grimanced in distaste then turned and kissed Greg quickly.  
  
"I've got to get ready. I'll be back in a few hours." he hurried off and Greg seemed to deflate a little.  
  
If he was being honest, he outright hated Mycroft's job. Long hours, constant business trips and explorations to the ends of the Earth; he was lucky to have Christmas off. Or at least, mostly off.  
  
However, Greg knew that Mycroft was a man of his word, so if he said a couple of hours, it wouldn't be more than that. He'd finished whatever it was, and get home as quickly as possible. He shouldn't worry.  
  
And yet, he couldn't help himself. Mycroft had never worked on Christmas Eve before; what if this work was all a set scheme to kidnap him, or assassinate him-  
  
No. He just had to stop thinking like that. Being slightly cautious was in good taste, imagining your boyfriend at the hands of a terrorist was not. Greg cleared his throat and looked at his kids with a smile.  
  
"Who wants to start on the cookies for Santa?"

* * *

By the time Mycroft left the house, the wind was just short of howling and the snow was coming down in thick blankets.  
  
It was almost enough to send him running back into his warm, comfortable house.  
  
Almost.  
  
He trudged on towards the car waiting for him and shivered as he got in. Anthea did not greet him, nor was she waiting for him in the car, and as the ride went on, he became ever more aware of how everyone was with their family right now, some sleeping in, others making cookies.  
  
His was making cookies, and Mycroft would've given anything to be there with them. After showing and dressing, he'd stopped in the kitchen quickly to say goodbye and found a lovely sight. All three of them wore aprons, and Elise and Nicholas had more flour on themselves then the counter. Greg had a smudge of chocolate on the corner of his mouth from where he'd eaten a handful of the chocolate chips they were using and very cleverly, Mycroft kissed the spot away. The look on Greg's face was priceless. He said a quick goodbye to the kids, who were careful not to get anything on his suit, bless their little souls. Then he was off, braving the frigid temperatures and now sitting in a much warmer car. Still, he preferred the warmth of home over car vents any day.  
  
Mycroft sighed as the building of his workplace came into view. The snow was really coming down now, and it made him slightly uneasy. He didn't really have a good feeling about the weather.

* * *

The drive to the Holmes estate wasn't _bad._  
  
No, it was absolutely horrendous.  
  
No matter how much they told him it was alright and tried to cajole him into taking a car whenever he needed a ride somewhere rather than using up his own gas, Lestrade refused. Thinking back, he realized that it would have been much easier to order a car, because as far as he could tell, those things were made for any type of weather. His quaint Lexus however, favoured clear, smooth roads and didn't particularly like the snow.  
  
Apparent blizzards were a whole other story.  
  
He managed to brave the swirling snow and icy roads and made it to the estate with two kids in good spirits, a car that was still functioning, and overall in one piece. It was a Christmas miracle.  
  
However, it was nearing 5:30 and there was no sign of Mycroft. He had said he would be gone only a few hours, and by now he was nearing an 8 hour work day. Where was he?  
  
Almost on command, his phone began to buzz insistently in his pocket. Lestrade excused himself from the family room that everyone currently occupied and quickly answered.  
  
"Mycroft!"  
  
 _"Gregory, I've seem to run into a problem."_ Lestrade held his phone a little tighter and shifted his weight.  
  
"What? What's happened?"  
  
 _"The snow is terrible. People can't leave the office, the ones that did had gotten into accidents, I can't get there."_ Mycroft paused, and Greg heard him sigh slightly. _"So I'm going to be a bit late."_ he joked weakly.  
  
"Like hell you are. I'll come and get you."  
  
 _"No! Absolutely not! Those roads are wrecking havoc, I refuse to have you endanger yourself."_ Mycroft sighed again. _"Please have a good time, Gregory. I must save my phone battery, just in case something happens. Merry Christmas, darling. I love you."_  
  
"Be safe," Greg warned softly. "I love you too. See you soon."  
  
The call disconnected and Lestrade put the phone back in his pocket before rubbing his face in agitation. Figures something like this would happen.  
  
Violet appeared in the doorway, her face filled with sympathy. "He can't make it, huh?"  
  
Lestrade shook his head. "He shouldn't have gone in today. God, why can't he just forget about work for once?!"  
  
Violet smiled slightly. "He has his father's work ethic. He's stuck to the routine of all work no play for so long, I suspect it's hard for him to break the habit."  
  
Greg nodded. He wasn't angry at Mycroft - this wasn't really his fault. He was angry at the weather for snowing them apart, he was angry at Mycroft's job for requiring he work so often, he was even angry at the infamous Mr. Holmes for making his son feel as though just being done wasn't good enough.  
  
"I know, I know. I'm just a bit bummed out about it all. It's the first Christmas we were going to have with Nicholas and Elise, and god, he was so excited about and I-" Greg cut off when he realized he was babbling and he sighed. "Sorry."  
  
"It's quite alright, no need to apologize." Violet leaned her hip against the doorway and clasped her hands. "I think he would like it better if you had a good time, rather than being upset about it. He does like to see you happy."  
  
Greg flushed slightly and nodded. "Yeah, he does." They both smiled and went back into the family room.

* * *

Mycroft sighed as he placed his phone down on his desk. The amount of despair he felt over this predicament was immense, and he couldn't think of anything that would allow him to make this up to Gregory or the kids. He could almost imagine their let down faces at the news, and his heart ached. Why had he gone in today? The heavy snowfall should have been more than enough of a warning sign that said very loudly **"STAY INDOORS WITH YOUR FAMILY AND HAVE A GOOD TIME."** Alas, he didn't listen and let that god damn urge to work himself to the bone get to him. Now, he was stuck in his office while the wind howled and the snow beat upon the windows.  
  
He was so foolish to think that he would give himself some time off. Mycroft knew that he worked constantly and he would've loved to be able to spend more time with Gregory. But the overworking was a habit, one that not even Elise and Nicholas had been able to break him of. Now, he was here while they had a merry Christmas Eve and enjoyed themselves. Indeed, this was all his fault, but he couldn't help but feel flickers of jealousy and loneliness. He hoped that Gregory would be missing him, and maybe that everyone else would give him a passing thought.  
  
 _"Humph, except Sherlock. That boy can hardly be bothered to answer my calls."_ Mycroft felt a small smile grow over his face as he thought about his brother. Only 6 years prior, Sherlock had been an addict, his poor brilliant mind too big for the small circle he'd landed himself in and his body paying the price for it. 3 years ago however, Sherlock had kicked it when a crime scene caught his attention. Or rather, when he barged in, solved the case, then promptly collapsed at a certain DI's feet. Gregory Lestrade was a strong and loyal man, and the way he cared for Sherlock as if he were a younger brother caught Mycroft's attention. The first meeting (abduction) hadn't scared him away, and Mycroft got a fairly harsh scolding for not caring for his own brother. Technically, Gregory had screamed at him for a such a long period of tine that it left Anthea texting Mycroft wondering what was taking so long.  
  
It was love at first sight on Mycroft's part.  
  
As he later found out, it was the same way on Gregory's part. Turns out that abductions by men who wore wonderfully tailored suits set his nerves on fire in a way that was to never be mentioned near his children. Or to anyone. _Ever._  
  
The meetings started out mostly with Sherlock being the main concern, then slowly evolved into more casual conversations, a cup of coffee, and eventually Mycroft agreeing to go out for a pint. They had each other's numbers, they texted from time to time, and each new message sent Mycroft's heart soaring. He wished it would be smashed down sometimes, that he could still convince himself that caring wasn't an advantage.  
  
When Sherlock met John and they became flatmates, then best friends, then supposed lovers, then actual lovers, Mycroft felt that residual hesitation flake away and he decided that if he didn't act soon, someone would take Greg. His wife had divorced him only a few months after Elise was born, and that wound was still lingering. Mycroft was determined to make Greg know that he deserved to be happy, and hoped that it could be with him. So, he invited the man out for a coffee, had a lovely time, then kissed him. He kissed back, kisses turned into going back to his place, and within a week, they were exclusive.  
  
The relationship had plenty of misunderstandings at first, with Mycroft's work schedule and demeanor sometimes making Gregory think he didn't want to spend time with him. They mended things and readjusted their lived in small ways, and became to come perfectly together, the a puzzle that was missing the one piece right in the heart of it. Gregory was Mycroft's and vise versa. The way that Nicholas and Elise immediately took to Mycroft strengthened them even further, and now their bond could only be described as unbreakable, stronger than crystalized carbon and the sparkling diamond of both of their lives.  
  
Mycroft stood up suddenly, his face set. How could he simply sit here and allow this? He could drive, and most certainly could handle this snow. He was Mycroft William Holmes, and he would be damned if he put a damper on Christmas. He grabbed his phone and strode over to the door, plucking his coat off the rack.  
  
He had somewhere to be.

* * *

"Pew pew!"  
  
"Ahhhh, you've got me!" John collapsed back onto the couch and shut his eyes, over exaggerating his dead body's posture. Elise giggled and came closer, her face wide with a smile.  
  
"John? John wake up." the man stayed perfectly still and cracked an eye ever so slightly to look at her. Her brows her furrowed in a small look of concern.  
  
"John?"  
  
"Rahhhhggg!" John sprung up suddenly, scooping the girl up in his arms and making her howl with delighted laughter.  
  
"Fly! Make me fly!" she demanded, and John grinned. He held her steady as he moved her around, her small arms and legs outstretched. She giggled loudly and waved as Lestrade came into the room.  
  
"Hi Daddy!" he waved back at her and smiled and John set her down, rotating his shoulder a bit.  
  
"The snow still hasn't let up?" he asked.  
  
"Nope," Greg sighed. "It's still coming down like mad." John frowned and crossed his arms.  
  
"I'm sorry, Greg. I guess he won't be able to make it."  
  
"Yeah, I suppose. He was so damn happy for this year though." John nodded and clapped him in the shoulder.  
  
"He loves the kids, of course he would. Besides, you'll be together on Christmas morning, think about that." The thought picked up Greg's mood after it had been smashed down at the sight of the still snowing outside and he smiled again. Looking around, he noted to absence of his son.  
  
"Where's Nicholas?"  
  
"With Sherlock." John said. He noted the wary look on Greg's face and added, "They went into the library. Sherlock may have his laptop and may be showing your son my accounts of the crime scenes so that he can pick then apart."  
  
Greg snorted. "How do you live with the man? He's on my crime scene for 5 minutes and I want to push him into the Thames." Both men laughed and John grinned.  
  
"He's an arse, but I love him. God help me, I do." Greg nodded and smiled. Sherlock may have a frosty exterior, but Greg knew he was an awful romantic. John had shared enough stories over a pint or two for Greg to understand how soft the detective really was.  
  
Nicholas came running in at that moment, Sherlock trailing behind.  
  
"Daddy, Daddy! Can I go to a crime scene? I'll help get the bad guy!" Nicholas made a motion as if he were punching a criminal and Lestrade sent a look at Sherlock. The detective appeared to he be merely inspecting his nails, supposed innocence written across his face.  
  
"Why do you want to go to a crime scene?"  
  
"Cause Sherlock showed me John's thing where he writes about it and it's cool! Sherlock says crime scenes are fun."  
  
"They aren't fun," John cut in, looking at Sherlock, then back to Nicholas, "when you've got a grown man complaining all the time."  
  
Greg nodded solemnly. "And Sherlock complains every time. Are you sure you want to go?"  
  
Nicholas looked from his father and to Sherlock then narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Complaining is for babies and drama queens." he told Sherlock. The man's blank face lit up with offense and the faintest tinge of amusement and John grinned.  
  
"Well, then I am the exception. I am not a baby, nor am I a drama queen." John snorted and shook his head.  
  
"Don't believe him. Sherlock's the biggest drama queen I have ever met."  
  
"Yes, well you're the worst cook I have ever met." Sherlock shot back. "Never eat John's cooking, and always dispose of it at the soonest moment possible to avoid further contamination." John opened his mouth in mock offense and pretended to wipe away a tear.  
  
"Oh Sherlock, how you hurt my feelings so. Look Elise, look Nicholas. Sherlock has made me cry. You should beat him up like he's a bad guy."  
  
The two children's faces lit up and before Sherlock could move, they had jumped onto him. Elise knocked into his leg with the most powerful force a 4 year could muster, and Nicholas simply crashed into him. All three bodies fell to the floor and Sherlock let out a heaving breath as the combined weight of two children crashed down on him.  
  
"You are a cruel man, John Watson." he choked out, letting his head fall back onto the floor. John rolled his eyes and Nicholas and Elise giggled. Violet poked her head in, looking at her youngest son with disdain.  
  
"Honestly Sherlock, what kind of example are you setting? Get up." she scolded. The children - all three of them - rose from the floor and Sherlock sent his mother a glare.  
  
"I do not care for setting an example."  
  
"Clearly."  
  
"Shut up, John."  
  
Greg rolled his eyes and supressed a grin. God, these two were like an old married couple.

* * *

The car drifted again, and Mycroft's fingers gripped the wheel even tighter. His knuckles were white from the tension, and his shoulders were tight. The roads were dangerously icy, and the wheels had almost become stuck in the snow nearly 6 times. He was only 30 minutes from the estate, but wasn't sure if the car would make it. The further he got into the countryside, the more snow there was and the less had been cleared. It was absolutely treacherous, and for the first time in a very long time, Mycroft found himself secretly scared for his own life. He could easily veer off the road and get into an accident, and Gregory would still think he was at the office and have no thoughts on where to look for him. It could be days until they found him, and by then he could be dead from exposure if the wreck trapped him.  
  
The thought of Greg having to identify his corals at a morgue sent strong waves of nausea over him, and Mycroft struggled to keep them down. He fixed his eyes straight to the road and furrowed his brows in concentration. Only 20 minutes left. He could make it.

* * *

Greg's phone rang suddenly as everyone filed out of the family room and went towards the dining room. He excused himself and found Mycroft's picture lighting up the screen. He quickly answered it, putting it up to his ear.  
  
"Mycroft? You okay?"  
  
 _"Perfectly fine, Gregory."_ he replied, making Lestrade ease. " _Would you do me a favor?"_  
  
"Yeah, anything. What do you need?"  
  
 _"Can you trouble yourself by describing to me how the house is decorated?"_ Mycroft's voice was soft, and Lestrade felt an immense amount of sympathy for the man who was stuck without his family again on the holidays. He nodded, despite knowing that Mycroft couldn't see it.  
  
"Of course, love." Lestrade replied. Violet stepped out of the dining room and he quickly made a gesture saying that it was Mycroft, and that he needed a couple of minutes, to which she immediately to complied. Lestrade went around, describing everything from the garland on the stair's railings, to the final decoration on the tree. Mycroft made remarks as he went along, quiet little ones that Greg barely caught. He smiled as he arrived back in front of the dining room and announced that he was finished.  
  
 _"Oh, Gregory? One more thing?"_  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Is it still snowing there?" Greg was surprised at the question, since Mycroft could just check the weather online for a report. He decided to quickly pop his head out the door, lest disturb the curtains.  
  
"Uhhh, let's see. Well it's-"  
  
He froze as his eyes met with another man's, the latter wearing a dark grey coat, a beautifully tailored suit and his hair almost completely covered in snow.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes?" Mycroft asked. Gregory quickly pulled him inside, ignoring the snow that wet his own clothes. He captured Mycroft in an urgent kiss, hands holding onto his face.  
  
"Oh god, I'm going to kill you!" Greg exclaimed, punctuating the statement with another kiss. Mycroft chuckled and wrapped his arms around his love, holding tightly.  
  
"Did you drive here? No, I know you did. You could have been hurt-"  
  
"But I wasn't-"  
  
"But you could've been! God, I love you so much you stupidly perfect man." Greg kissed him again, letting out a gleeful laugh at the man's presence. He pulled back and took in Mycroft's appearance, slightly sodden from the snow.  
  
"You must be freezing! Cmon, get those off." Greg helped him out of his coat and shoes, checking to see if his clothes were wet otherwise. The cuffs of his pants were slightly damp, but it wouldn't bother him. Greg grinned widely, blinking quickly to dispel the wetness that had somehow sprung up in his eyes.  
  
"Dinner's ready. Let's get you with the rest of the family."  
  
The looks of surprise that covered everyone's faces, Sherlock included, were a delight for Mycroft to see. After the idle questions of "how did you get here", and "why did you drive the roads are dangerous" everyone finally sat down together and enjoyed their Christmas Eve dinner.  
  
Later, they sat near the fire as Elise and Nicholas opened the presents that Violet, John and Sherlock had for them. The kids brought over the adults respective boxes and packages when they found their name on the tag, and they occasionally opened one. Mycroft suddenly perked up and he reached into his pocket.  
  
"That reminds me, I have a present for you tonight, Gregory. Here." The DI took the box from his boyfriend and looked at the size, turning it. From the size, it could be a watch. That would be nice, since he did need a new one. He paused, awaiting an observation form Sherlock. The detective however was quiet, and caught his brother's eye in confusion. Greg tore off the wrapping paper, and found a small white box. He opened that one as well, and Mycroft smiled when everyone's breath caught as he pulled it out.  
  
"Mycroft-" Greg cut off when Mycroft took the small red box from his hands and got down on one knee in front of him, mouth picking up into a hopeful smile.  
  
"You have given me everything I could ever wish for, and have preformed countless favors for me. Now I ask you for one more; Gregory Lestrade, would you do the immense favor of allowing me to marry and call you my husband?"  
  
As Greg opened his mouth with a wide smile, Mycroft's heart beat rapidly in his chest and his mood rose higher and higher with the anticipation. Instead of saying yes, Greg began to laugh aloud, clutching his sides. Mycroft's face fell, but quickly picked itself back up when he was hauled up of the ground and brought into a loving kiss.  
  
"Oh my god, I love you. Look." Out of his own pocket, Greg pulled out a small ring box, and gave it to Mycroft. The politician opened it to find an engagement ring as well, and his breath caught as he looked at Greg.  
  
"I'll say yes to you if you say yes to me." Greg told him, causing the normally calm and collected man to break out in elated laughter and pull him into another kiss.  
  
"Bloody romantics..." Sherlock muttered, casting a sly glance at John. "You're not going to propose to me as well, are you?" he teased lightly.  
  
"Not with that attitude." John retorted, grinning and clasping Sherlock's hand in his own. Violet dabbed at her eyes and beamed as she looked upon her eldest son, now engaged! Oh, the vey thought of such a happy occasion finally falling upon him was almost too much for her.  
  
"Is Mycroft going to be our Daddy too?" Elise piped up, old enough to understand what marriage entailed, but still too young to really get the hilarity and marvelousness of the event. Greg laughed and picked her up, looking at Nicholas who wore a large, happy smile.  
  
"Do you want him to be your Daddy too?" Lestrade asked, looking at Mycroft. The man's face was hopeful and he smiled gently at Elise as she pondered the question.  
  
"Yes! We can't call him Daddy though, cause that's your name." Mycroft let out a joyous laugh and caught Sherlock's mouth quirk up in a small smile, obviously happy for his brother.  
  
"Oh you two, I'm so happy..." Violet dabbed at her eyes and blinked quickly, trying to ward away the tears. The grins on both of their faces seemed to be stuck there, unwavering and strong.

* * *

The snow had let up by the time they left, and the roads weren't so bad that it was impossible to drive. They made it home safely, and at quarter to 10, Greg and Mycroft were able to get both kids in bed and asleep. They crept away into their bedroom, and closed the door with a firm click.  
  
For a minute, all Mycroft and Greg could do were stare at each other as they stood a few feet apart, drinking in each other's presence. The next moment, Greg had gone from the door to Mycroft's arms, his hand cradling the back of the man's neck as he pulled him into a firm kiss. They moved slowly, easily and quietly removing all of each other's clothing as they went back towards the bed. Mycroft hit the mattress first, and he and Greg inched up on it until they were comfortably laid out. Greg dipped down and kissed Mycroft lightly, his lips hovering above the other man's.  
  
"I suppose I should make up for this morning, hm?" he asked, breath light on Mycroft's skin. He made a small smirk, eyebrow raised.  
  
"I would have no objections, fiancé."  
  
"Oh god Mycroft, I love you." Greg let out a small laugh at the new title and kissed his now fiancé again. He trailed kisses down the man's jaw and neck, stopping to nip and suck at some places. Mycroft shivered beneath him, muscles shifting as Greg's mouth ran over them. The DI's hand sunk lower when his mouth returned to Mycroft's, and the politician gasped sharply when Greg's hand curled around his cock.  
  
"Nnngggh, Gregory..." he breathed, throwing his head back as Greg's thumb brushed over the slit and smeared precome over the skin. He gave Mycroft a few strokes, watching the man squirm and moan beneath his hands.  
  
"Ohhh, you're such a tease!" Mycroft complained, though he was secretly content to continue on like this. Greg always managed to light each and every one of his nerves on fire and be the only thing that could quench the blaze that set through out his skin. Greg grinned slightly and kissed Mycroft's throat, making a trail up to his lips. He moved so that their hips slotted together and rubbed their aching cocks against one another. Mycroft ground up against him, Greg's name falling from his lips like it was a prayer. He snaked a hand down and wrapped it around their cocks, matching the pace of the strokes in time with the movement of their hips.  
  
"I love you, I love you so much..." Greg panted as Mycroft cut him off with a bruising kiss. His tongue flicked out and ran across Greg's bottom lip, and was immediately given access to the wet warmth of the man's mouth. They kissed each other hungrily, teeth bumping and breaths hot against their skin. Greg broke away and bent his head down low into the curve of Mycroft's neck, letting out a shuddering breath.  
  
"God Mycroft, I'm close-" he groaned, words cutting off with a hitched breath as Mycroft increased the pace and his grip. Soon, they were both calling out each other's name as they came, Greg first and Mycroft following behind. Lestrade exhaled deeply as he moved off of Mycroft and lay beside him, pulling the man into his arms.  
  
"I love you." he muttered into Mycroft's shoulder. The politician laughed slightly and nodded.  
  
"And I, you. Merry Christmas, darling."  
  
"It's the best Christmas I've ever had," Lestrade commented, smiling. "I have my kids, a fiancé, and a wonderful life ahead of me. And it will stay wonderful as long as you're there."  
  
Mycroft sighed contently and nodded again.  
  
"You took the words right out of my mouth."


End file.
